


Foul Temptation

by Faustkomskaikru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/F, Happy Ending tho, Personnal work, Some Fluff, really not a lot, we love suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 19:45:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8766541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustkomskaikru/pseuds/Faustkomskaikru
Summary: Lexa meets Clarke in drama class. The blonde surprises her in more ways than one. or Yet another College AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a highly personnal work. This is a giant letter to the girl I love. This is our story, re-written. I had a precise idea for this but I changed quite a bit of the story. I still made it into a pure Clexa AU with a light side of Octaven but don't expect much from them. It's really Clexa centric. It was really draining and I poured my soul into this.  
> Thank you to both my betas @i-like-heda and @noxita for their tremendous amount of help both gramatically and in terms of writing. I couldn't have done it without them.  
> Disclaimer: I've used lyrics from songs Hearts a Mess by Gotye (remixed by Joe Hardy) and some lyrics from Hamilton. Those are not mine obviously.  
> Be gentle.

_This is a gift from me to you. This is token of my love, this is a proof of what was, what is, what will be. We made mistakes, we did things wrong. I mostly did. I take this time to find myself, make myself into the person you deserve. The one I know I have inside of me, the one I know is waiting for you. The one I know you're waiting for. I take this time, to honor the promise I made you, I made myself. The promise I made us. The one to never forget about the fires inside our souls. The ones that made us who we were, who we could be. I will go across oceans and forests, I will go across the world, I will go through storms and hurricanes, to find my way back to you._

_It's here, it's all in here. The good parts, the bad parts. The highs, the lows, the laughter, the tears. Everything I love about you. About us. All the reasons why. It's all there._

_It holds the truth I cannot say, the things I wish I was brave enough to say, all the words that lie inside of me, unused and wasted. I can't waste them anymore. I need you to know they're real. I need you to know, of the burning passion I hold for you._

_Every words I wrote is for you, and I would brave the depths of hell to find my way back to you._

_-_

If there's one thing Lexa doesn't like, it's surprises.

The unknown, the unexpected. She likes to be organized and know what's waiting for her. Or at least it was the case until today.

First of all, this new class she's taking is highly unexpected of her, and for her. As an english lit major in her junior year, choosing an intro class to drama is not something she planned to do. She doesn't know why she did it, but she feels like it was a good choice, anyway. Being among freshmen doesn't seem like that big of a deal. She has a feeling.

The first surprise is the shiver coursing through her body when her eyes find blue and yellow.

She doesn't hear the sound of people settling in, the sound of the teacher greeting everyone. She turns her head and watches as the girl’s head turns towards her and in a fateful frozen moment, their eyes meet.

Lexa's entirely too unfocused on what's happening around her, and entirely too fascinated by the depths she finds in the light teal of the girl's eyes. She watches, and watches, forgetting how to blink, not wanting to lose a moment of the sight.

They're both startled at the same time by the absolute absence of sound whatsoever, and when Lexa turns her head towards the front of the class, she's mortified by the sea of eyes watching them, seemingly waiting for them to notice.

“You two,” says the teacher looking at them both, “what are your names?"

“I'm Clarke,” the blonde girl says without hesitation, a little bit defiant. Lexa is pulled back in and almost forgets to answer once again.

“Hum, I'm Lexa.”

The middle-aged man smiles, kind but mischievous.

“As I've said, I teach drama and I'm professor Jaha. But I don't think you got that.”

Lexa doesn't know if she feels comforted by the man's smile or afraid. She settles for both.

“Why don't you two come upstage and we'll start with a little exercise. I've got a feeling.”

There's a moment where no one moves, where Lexa doesn't know whether it's happening for real or not, but when she sees Clarke get up and walk toward the small stage ahead, she decides that it might not be so bad after all.

(It's not like she has much of a choice anyway.)

“Okay, what I want you to do,” Jaha starts, watching the girls settle side by side, “is face each other. Look at each other.”

Okay, Lexa thinks, that seems like a simple enough task.

Oh how wrong was she. Oh how she had forgotten, in the five seconds walk to the stage, how mesmerizing Clarke's eyes were.

“And I want you to shock us. Without words. No speaking, just action. I want our jaws on the floor.”

The brunette barely hears what he says, barely registers, and when she does, Clarke is already moving towards her, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

Lexa is sure Clarke is going to slap her. Isn't that what people do in general? Isn't that what people always do when being asked this?

She tries to think, she tries to find something she could do that would be shocking enough to avoid being slapped. She's scared, but she's not, so she doesn't move, and realizes she'd let Clarke do whatever. It startles her more than she expects, when she understands why.

She trusts this girl.

She knows nothing about her, but that her name's Clarke, she has the most beautiful blue eyes. And she would put her life in her hands.

It doesn't scare her as much as she thought it would.

What scares her more, though, is the closeness that is now growing as Clarke approaches, slowly still. She sees one of Clarke's hands begin to rise, and she knows. It's now.

The surprise is real for everyone when the blonde makes her next move. If Lexa's brain were still functional enough, she might be able to think that Clarke has indeed understood the meaning of this assignment because she managed to shock everyone, including Lexa herself.

Clarke's hand is soft and delicate against the brunette's skin. Nothing like what she expected it to be. It's gentle and comforting. Needed.

Clarke's lips against hers are grounding, persistent and feral. They're everything her hand is not, they're everything she needs to assess the fact of the matter: Clarke is kissing her.

It doesn't take long for Lexa to answer, the onslaught of feelings is too grand. She kisses back, experiences the raucous way their bodies seem to pull each other in. She tries to focus, she tries to tell herself it's just an exercise. She enjoys failing.

It lasts longer than she'd thought. Shorter than she'd ever like.

When it ends, she's amazed to find herself unscathed.

“Hey, I'm Clarke.” It's so simple, and effective. The hand on her face disappears and space is created to separate them, but a hand is reached out now and Lexa isn't sure she's able to take it. There's a light behind Clarke's eyes, there's a light in her words and she's sure if she takes her hand, the light will make its way through to her.

She takes it anyway.

Once again, they're interrupted by the sullen voice of their teacher.

“Well, I'm afraid the only people shocked here were yourselves.”

But Lexa doesn't hear him, and her body moves without her ever commanding it to. She feels herself walking, but she never willed herself to go back to her seat. The one so near and yet so far from the blonde beauty.

She doesn't pay attention to the rest of the class, doesn't hear the weak attempts of their classmates, doesn't move a single one of her muscles.

When the class is over, Clarke is out of her seat in a second, and Lexa can't form a coherent sentence for the best part of her day.

Lexa doesn't like surprises, at least she didn't until today.

-

You can never know how to measure someone’s life. Is it actions, moments, time?

What defines it, what doesn't. What defines us. Is it people? Is it the lives around you that allow you to quantify yours? Is it your own? Is it the choices you make or the memories you create?

Is it all the single moment that change our path, seemingly insignificant in everyone's eyes but so decisive in another's life.

-

When it's time to go home, Lexa still hasn't managed to take her mind off of what happened. With each step she takes on the walk home, she's reminded of the feeling of Clarke's mouth on hers, of the warmth on her face where her hands touched her, of the warmth in her chest.

She's startled by how affected she is by the events of the morning.

The sensation of home she felt when she looked in the blonde's eyes for the first time. The familiarity in her kiss, countered by the wakening novelty of it all.

She felt like being kissed for the first time. She felt twenty years of domesticity.

She's not an easy girl to charm, that's a truth in her life. She's weak for girls, that's true, but that doesn't mean she'll give them the power to have something over her as volatile as attraction. She's careful about who she associates with. She's not a snob but she likes to know. She just likes to know what she gets herself into.

It's different with Clarke. She exchanged no words and a kiss with the girl and she already feels like she knows her better than most of her friends.

Lexa doesn't know if she must run for the hills or fall in head first.

“Want a ride, babe?”

The voice scares her, if only for the fact the she didn't know for a second if it wasn't still coming from her mind.

When she recognizes the voice then the face, she smiles. She can't believe that fate put that girl on her way twice today. She keeps being there. Lexa decides here and there that this is no coincidence. That's a sign, if she ever got one.

“ _Babe?_ ”

It's never been harder for two girls to refrain from smiling. Lexa's not sure either of them is really trying.

“Well, I figured we already kissed so might as well skip to the sickening nicknames. Logical next step.”

Lexa wonders if she will ever get used to this girl. But Clarke keeps wiggling her eyebrows at her so she thinks it's okay if she never does.

“I don't know, Clarke. This whole thing seems to be moving awfully fast.. I don't know if I'm ready.” There's a smile on her lips the whole way through, though.

Clarke laughs. A delighted raspy chunk of sound, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, the whole world in slow motion for a second. It's all the brunette can do to prevent her legs from giving.

But Lexa doesn't realize yet the sad irony hidden deep beneath her words. She doesn't realize how much she'll learn to despise them in the future. When she's not the one saying them.

It's oblivious of this fact that she climbs into the car, intrigued and excited.

“You know my name is Lexa, right?”

“I know.” There's a gentle smile, then, after a beat, “Babe suits you better though.”

With no apparent reasons to argue, Lexa allows the nickname along with the tightening feeling inside her chest. She knows it's nothing good, she knows she must be scared of it and deep down she is. She can't bring herself to care.

Clarke's silent for a moment before actually asking where she should drop Lexa off.

“You have plans for tonight?” Clarke asks again after a moment.

“Not necessarily. Why?”

“Well, I don't really want to go home. Fancy a night out?”

“Generally, a girl must be asked on a date before being kissed, you know.”

Clarke just smiles and changes roads without waiting for an answer. Lexa doesn't give one, and doesn't protest. Something inside of her doesn't want to leave this girl's side.

“Well, if you want a date so much maybe you should just ask me.”

The challenge is bold. The words are confident but if one were to listen close, and Lexa is, they'd hear the tremble in them. The wavering of uncertainty, fragile letters pushed together, defying shyness and apprehension.

“We'll see if you're nice enough, then.” Is all Lexa says, because this time she's afraid of the ease in the conversation. Of the way they speak without fearing.

“Teasing is not nice, though.”

Laughter is the only sound heard besides the one of comfort that fills the space when the former dies. The sounds of two souls coming home to each others, without ever knowing they had left it. Two hearts finding shelter in the other, finding peace at once.

If only it was that easy.

“So, what are you majoring in, Clarke?”

“I wanted to go into art but I chose Med.”

“Impressive,”

“Not impressive yet, wait until I graduate.”

Lexa doesn't miss a beat before she answers, “Oh, you will. I know it.”

“What about you?”

“English Lit.” A pause, then, “I want to be a writer.”

“Now, that's impressive.” Clarke's tone is a little bit too flirty, a little bit too playful. Lexa likes it and doesn't.

“Haven't graduated yet either, so let's wait a little.”

There's just smiles and light conversations after that. Learning to know each other never felt that easy. A mix between feeling like you already know the answer to the questions, but wanting to hear the answer more than anything. Words flow. They stop to pick up some food, some beers, and go on with their way.

Lexa feels like something's off sometimes though. Clarke talks and tells but there's something. Something that's holding her back and she doesn't know what. She doesn't ask. She wants to but she doesn't. She wishes she could slip inside her head and see what's hiding there. It's such an unusual feeling, for Lexa. To be in the unknown. She's good at reading people. But this girl. Oh this girl is something else entirely. There's a gnawing feeling at the bottom of Lexa's chest, when she thinks that the feeling of knowing that girl already is just that. A feeling.

She's a mystery, she's such a beautiful mystery, Lexa would spend centuries trying to unveil it.

Silence falls inside the car while they drive in a hidden bit of the city, and the sun begins to set. The road is deserted, it's just them driving on small roads until they stop in a small clearing looking down on the city.

“Is this where you take your victims to kill them? Should I be worried?” Lexa asks when they exit the car and the chilly autumn air causes a shiver to run up her arms.

“Yes, beware of the blonde girl with the blue eyes that shine in the night,” Clarke says, retrieving a blanket in the trunk, bringing it onto the hood of the car with the food and beers. She sits there and looks at Lexa, waiting.

“Quite the poet yourself, Clarke.” She goes to sit beside her, in a false sense of comfort. But her heart is beating and she feels like falling.

She doesn't quite know where yet. She tries to stop it, wills herself to hang on to something. But she's weak. She's been weakened, doomed to keep falling for the blonde girl with the blue eyes that shine in the night.

The sun is setting, yellow hair made golden by the descending light. Lexa wonders if anything has ever looked prettier than this girl.

Lexa wonders if good things are coming from this.

Lexa wonders if this day is even real, to begin with. If thisn’t is all just a dream.

Lexa wonders, and thinks, that no matter what is coming for her, for them, she'll be damned if she ever lets this one go.

In the soft orange light, where battles rage inside Lexa's heart, she looks at Clarke sipping her beer, talking, eating. Being.

In the soft orange light, Lexa wishes that the sun would never set.

-

They spend the night talking on the hood of the car, talking, laughing. Lexa doesn't mind the mildly cold air around them. She doesn't mind the dark night upon them. She doesn't mind that they're so far from home.

She minds never being able to reach for this girl.

So she talks about the things she likes. She talks about music. It doesn't go well.

“Excuse me, but Paradise is _absolutely not_ Coldplay's best song. Please. If anything, it might be the worst.” Lexa finds herself saying at one point, mirroring the outraged look on Clarke's face.

“I'm sorry?! Are you serious right now?”

“Deadly.”

“I don't even know why I'm talking to you.”

“Well, no one is forcing you so I think you might enjoy it more than you're saying.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don't. You like me.”

“You know too much. It's not fair.”

“We never said anything about playing fair.”

So they change subject, and they talk TV Shows. It doesn't go any better.

“Game of Thrones is not boring. Have you ever watched it, anyway?” Clarke says later in the night, drinking her third beer and eating jolly ranchers.

“Hum, no I couldn't go past the first ten minutes because it was _too boring._ ”

“Hm.. I guess I could make you watch it.”

“No you couldn't.”

(She can, and she will.)

“We'll see about that, _babe_.”

“I don't like you.”

“Yes you do.”

“Don't steal my lines.”

“If you're not playing fair, then me neither.”

It's astounding the amount of flirting going back and forth between them. It's astounding the ease with which they fall into it.

Wrapped in the same blanket, the night comes and goes, and neither of them notice the first lights of the day appearing in the early morning, and when they do, they act like they're surprised to find themselves close together, tangled and cuddled. Like the light of the upcoming day exposed them when the darkness of the night allowed them to pretend and hide.

Neither of them sleep that night, and when Lexa arrives home, she decides not to sleep, but she's scared of what she'll find in her dreams, or to wake at all and discover that it all wasn't real.

-

“Geez, what happened to your face? You look awful.”

Lexa's pulled out of her reverie by her roommate, sometimes in the morning. She had been staring at the TV without ever registering what she had actually been watching.

“It's so good to see you too, Raven, I hope you had a great night.”

“Better than yours, apparently.”

“I haven't slept, I came home like two hours ago.”

“It's like 9 am, what the fuck did you do?” After a pause, though, Raven's expression of confusion changes into one of mirth. “Oh wait. Wait, wait, wait. Did you finally get some? Oh my god, I can see it on your face, you totally did!”

“No I did not,” Lexa answers, annoyed at herself for being so easy to read without even it being the truth. And annoyed at her roommate for being able to pick up on what's going on in her life in two seconds flat.

“Why are you lying? You know I'll get the truth out of you anyway. Might as well get it out right away, it saves both of us time and energy.”

“Well, that's the truth.” Upon the insistent stare of her roommate, though, Lexa continues. “But I might have, like.. met someone. Or whatever.”

“Ah! I knew it. Raven knows everything.”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, out with it, I want deets.”

Lexa sighs, exhaustion making every muscles in her body ache, but she indulges anyway, and starts talking. She tells about the kiss. About the car ride that turned into a night out. She tells of everything that made her heart race, and everything that she found beautiful in that girl. She tells tales of six packs being downed with a side of junk food and life stories. She tells about gold and blue.

“Wow she sounds hot.. Is she hot?”

The pointed stare Raven receives in exchange forces her to rephrase. “Geez, sorry. Is she beautiful?”

“She's so beautiful, she looks like the sun never sets.”

No one says anything again after that for a while. Truer words have never been spoken.

-

The week passes and Lexa curses herself for not getting Clarke's number. She's waiting desperately for Friday, for drama class, for Clarke. She tries to find her all week but she doesn't even know how to start looking. She doesn't want to look too desperate either. So she doesn't look too hard. Though she wants too.

When friday does roll around, she wants to find the strength to ask her so many things and tell her she's beautiful but she doesn't. They barely talk at all during drama class, but Clarke still smiles at her before leaving the room.

It's not until Lexa's walking back home that she hears the familiar sound of Clarke's car. She will learn to recognize that sound amongst hundreds. Like an unspoken agreement, Clarke stops and Lexa gets in, and she doesn't even ask before taking the now known roads to the clearing. Lexa finds out later that food and beers had already been packed. That too, surprises her beyond words.

It becomes a regular thing. It becomes their thing. Every Friday, after drama class, they spend their nights in the clearing, in this spot that becomes theirs. Often, Lexa only goes home in the early hours of the next day.

Clarke is funny, she discovers. She's light and witty, she knows how to play Lexa like she knows her, and in some way, she thinks she already does. Lexa will never get how Clarke knows all the words that will unsettle her, unwind her, calm her, and soothe her. It's only been days and Clarke already knows her.

The first time they spent the night there, she surprised her. With her words, her strength, herself. Her actions. She made Lexa crave more, but made mystery blissful. She was torn between the feeling of want and the one of fear. She was scared.

(But she wasn't ready to admit that.)

The first time was bittersweet. It hold a truth Lexa could not say. Fears she could not have. It stood as a quiet admission for a crime she had not yet committed.

(And she will.)

Clarke is young and sweet, smart and strong. Everything Lexa is not.

She's a thief too, Lexa will discover. She's the one who stole her heart.

Now, every Friday, Lexa gets to experience the surprise a little bit more, and every Friday, she thinks she might fall in love with Clarke Griffin.

She watches her talk, she watches her be, she watches her hide herself and reveal herself and she doesn't know how to handle the feelings inside her chest. She's learned in the past what happens when she lets herself fall that hard, that deep. It happened with Costia. The fall was blissful but the landing was brutal.

It does nothing to stop her though. Something about this girl makes her sure. Something about this girl is different. She feels it.

Every week, she discovers pieces of Clarke, it feels like too much at a time but Lexa knows it to be not nearly enough.

There's a masterpiece shaping up inside her mind and before her eyes. It has Clarke's feature and is made of gold and blue.

She might have already fallen.

-

It's the fifth Friday when the name Finn is heard for the first time.

They had been talking about childhood stories. It's so unexpected that Clarke almost doesn't notice what she said but Lexa can see the shadow passing over her face when Clarke says “Finn always made me new canvases for my paintings.”

She's quiet for a long time after that and Lexa doesn't have the words to fill the silence inside Clarke's chest.

She holds her hand and holds her heart. They don't talk for the rest of the night. Lexa knows there's a story there. She wants to ask and wants to soothe but she knows she can't so she stays quiet too.

She holds Clarke for what feels like days, and they both know that this thing between them is more than just easy flirting. Lexa's too busy thinking about Clarke's body against her own though, to notice the pieces of her heart Clarke's taking with her. She takes them silently, slowly and calm.

It's reverent, how she cradles the beating muscle to pick apart the parts she wants to steal. Soon, Lexa realizes she tears it apart to put it back together better.

In the dead of night, in the gentle light of the moon above, Lexa decides that for better or for worse, she's in this 'til the end.

-

When she gets home this morning, she sits besides an already up Raven, sighs, and unceremoniously say, “I'm fucked.”

“Did you and Clarke finally do it?” Raven asks, her mouth full of cereal, her eyes never leaving the tv screen.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Raven, I'm in love with Clarke Griffin.”

“Wait.” At that, Raven turns her head slowly, the bowl of cheerios discarded on the table. “You mean to tell me that your Clarke, the one you've been having romantic escapades with is in fact Clarke Griffin?”

“Hum.. Yeah? Why? Do you know her?”

“Only fuck yes. Oh man. You're fucked. You're very fucked.” But Raven doesn't seem to be joking, and Lexa grows worried.

“Wait, but how do you know her exactly?”

“Well, I don't know her per say. I've only met her once, briefly. She's Octavia roommate and best friend.”

“Octavia as in the girl you've been obsessing over since the semester started?”

Raven's jaw drops at that and for a second, she looks like she won't find what to say. “I haven't been obsessing, bitch. We've been hanging out. As friends.”

“Just like I've been hanging out as friends with Clarke, huh?”

“Shut up. Speaking of that, dude. Be careful with that girl, she's been through a lot.”

Lexa ponders on why Raven knows that and she doesn't. Then again, she knows why. She just doesn't know _how_. She tries not feel jealous, but she does.

“What do you know about that?”

Raven is already out of the couch and typing on her phone when she answers, “Not my story to tell, bro. You should ask her. But yeah..”

“I wish I could..”

The words haunt Lexa for the good part of the next week. 

-

The brunette doesn't expect to see Clarke again before next Friday. She wonders sometimes why they don't see each other the other days of the week, but she doesn't try to change that either. They text and talk sometimes over the phone all through the week, but they never go to the clearing. Or see each other elsewhere.

But she does see Clarke again before Friday.

It happens Wednesday, it's brief and they don't talk. Lexa is in a hurry to get to class and just has time to buy a cup of coffee.

When she exits the small coffee shop, though, she sees her. Across the street. She's waiting by the crosswalk to join the other side of the street. Lexa wants to go and say hello before she notices that all the cars are stopped. Their light is red. The walker's light is green. Still, Clarke doesn't cross. Still, Clarke waits and watches, uneasy and undecided.

Lexa wants to cross and ask why she isn't crossing. But Clarke sees her, and her expression deepens, changes into one of fear.

The brunette goes to cross but the light goes red and cars are moving in front of her, preventing her from advancing, preventing her from joining the blonde.

But when she looks her way again, Lexa realizes that Clarke is gone.

-

Friday arrives far too slowly for Lexa's liking. They haven't talked since Wednesday. For a moment, Lexa is scared that Clarke won't stop to pick her up, or won't even drive by that road at all.

But she's here. She stops to pick Lexa up and no one talks until they arrive at the clearing.

“Can we not talk about it? Please?” Clarke says finally when they park.

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Silence.

“Looks like it's gonna rain, we should stay inside tonight,” Clarke tries again.

“Sure.”

“Come on, don't be like this,” the blonde pleads, but Lexa feels like this is too much of a one way street. She forgets about patience and understanding. She forgets about boundaries because they don't seem to have much of these, lately, so she forgets that she should always respect them.

“I just don't understand why you won't talk to me.”

“I'll talk to you, I'll tell you. I promise. I'm just- Not now.”

“Fine.”

“Come on, babe. Stop being weird. Stop pouting.”

The smile on Clarke's face is a brave one, Lexa knows it. Lexa knows she's trying, Lexa knows she's putting as much effort into it as she can.

“Come on, we'll listen to Coldplay, eat jolly ranchers and speak nonsense. I'll let you hold my hand if you're nice enough.”

So Lexa tries too. She tries.

“What if it's not your hand I want to hold?”

“Calm your dirty mind and let's put some music on, ” Clarke laughs.

Lexa knows that Clarke knows that she didn't mean anything dirty by that, but she lets it slide because Clarke _is trying._

“Fine, fine. But none of that Paradise nonsense.”

The brunette smiles, to indicate the lightness behind her words and she tries not to laugh at the face Clarke makes.

“You did not just say that.”

“Okay, let's put Paradise on.”

“You're cute,” Clarke says while Lexa searches for the song in her phone. She pretends like it was always there and she didn't put it in her phone when she learned it was Clarke's favorite.

“I'm sorry, I think you meant badass.”

The brunette really tries to be offended, but she just can't. She melts every time Clarke calls her that, and she'd do anything to hear her say it again every time. She can't believe how helpless of her own feelings she becomes when she's around the blonde.

“Nope I did not.”

And just like that, it's forgotten, and the rain starts to pour over the roof of the car, and Lexa thinks she's never felt more at peace. The rain is relentless and violent against the steely home they made for themselves, and the cold forces them to retreat to the backseat, huddled together for warmth, and they talk. Until they don't talk anymore.

Clarke, with her head against Lexa's chest, breathes so evenly that for a second, Lexa thinks she's asleep, lulled by Bon Iver's melodic music. She considers falling asleep too but these moments are just too precious to waste on sleep. Those are privileges Clarke is sharing with her and she wouldn't miss out on them for anything in the world so she fights off the sleepiness in her eyes and wraps her arms around Clarke's body tighter.

An hour passes, maybe more, until Clarke speaks again, startling Lexa. “Finn was my boyfriend.”

“You don't have to tell me.”

“I want to. I want you to know. I've been trying to work up the courage to speak for the last hour, so please, let me do this.”

Her voice is trembling and her words are heavy. They're hard against Lexa's ribs and she feels them echo through her heart. She stays silent, and Clarke takes it as her cue to go on.

“Really, he was my childhood best friend. He was the boy next door, you know. You think those stories never exist in real life but they do.

Lexa pretends she doesn't feel the wetness of Clarke's tears against her shirt. She keeps silent, attentive.

“Anyway, he asked me out in high school, after a lot of will-you-won't-you games. It was junior year. It was so perfect. We were happy you know. He was my first and only love. We grew up together, he was my family and I was his.”

“What happened?” Lexa can't help but ask.

She feels Clarke shifts. Maybe she shouldn't have. She's always asking too much.

“Life happened.”

There's a long pause before Lexa hears Clarke's voice again.

“Anyway, I didn't think anyone would love me this much again."

“Of course they will.”

“I know that now. I've realized that.”

Lexa is full of doubts and fears when she asks, “When?”

“When I met you.”

Lexa's heart is beating so fast that she's sure Clarke can hear it. If she does, she doesn't say.

This is the admission of guilt. This is the part where she has to confess. She knows Clarke knew. But it was easier when everything was still a secret hiding deep beneath every word and behind every look.

It's out in the open now.

Lexa doesn't know if she has to say it out loud now. If she has to confirm. If it was rhetorical or if Clarke is waiting for her to say something.

When Clarke lifts her head, Lexa makes her choice right here and there. She doesn't waste time and leans in. She's surprised for the hundredth time when Clarke meets her halfway with a hunger she didn't know her to have. It's still gentle and sweet and they kiss again weeks after the first time their lips touched. Lexa feels so many things at once, she doesn't know how to decipher them all.

It's slow and deep, and every bit as intense and the first one they shared. It lasts longer, it lasts and lasts and lasts and Lexa is grateful the only audience they have this time is the drops of rain crashing against the windshield. Her arms still around Clarke's body tighten their hold of their own accord, and Clarke pulls back finally. There are long moments where no one talks, and they just look at each others. Lexa finds the happiness in Clarke eyes but it's shielded by a layer of something she can't recognize.

“I don't know if I'm ready to love you yet.”

It feels like a stab to the heart but it sounds a lot like hope too. The turmoil is aching, ripping the flesh of Lexa's body, but she pushes the feeling away.

“It feels so good to be in your arms though. I don't know if I have the strength to leave them.”

“Don't leave them. Stay.”

This is the first time Lexa asks Clarke to stay, and it doesn't feel as painful as she thought it would.

“Okay.”

The tiredness is distinguishable in Clarke's voice, so Lexa leans in once again and they kiss again.

It's selfish, Lexa knows. She wants Clarke. She loves Clarke. Clarke isn't ready but Lexa wants her. And Clarke isn't rejecting her. Clarke is leaning harder, kissing deeper. Clarke is slipping her hands inside Lexa's jacket, Clarke is kissing down Lexa's neck, and Lexa is weak.

Lexa doesn't have the strength to stop it before it gets too far.

Lexa is weak and selfish and she wants to love Clarke tonight.

So she does.

She slips her hands against the delicate flesh of Clarke's back, listens to every whisper for more in her ear. Clarke will love her someday. Lexa knows. Lexa is sure. There is this thing between them. Clarke will love her. Maybe Clarke already does.

When Clarke lifts her shirt, Lexa thinks she might stop breathing altogether. She burns with this desire to love this girl with every fibre of her soul.

When the shirt ends up somewhere in the back of the car, Lexa does stop breathing.

Lexa wants time to slow, she wills it to. She makes it slow down physically, takes Clarke's face in her hands; making the moment stand still.

For the first time that night, Lexa experiences what it's like to love Clarke entirely. She loves her, and loves her again. She doesn't stop loving until the sun rises, and they watch the first lights soar through the trees, nestled in heavy silence. Their bodies close, and their hearts so far apart.

“We should go home,” says Clarke, half heartedly, and Lexa takes comfort in the fact that the blonde doesn't start getting dressed before kissing her.

-

Once again, Lexa goes home and doesn't sleep. She showers and flops in front of the TV.

There are storms inside her head and she doesn't know what to make of them. She doesn't know how to make them stop, to shut them up, bury them. She's forced to live with the feeling that what happened is a blessing and a curse. Between the sense to have lived both the best and to have done the worst.

Like a ritual, when Raven gets up she sits besides Lexa, and she hates that she can read her so well.

“You guys finally did it last night, didn't you?”

But it doesn't sound teasing, it doesn't sound playful. It sounds solemn and serious.

Lexa doesn't have the time to reply before another girl comes out of Raven's room. She's one of those people that looks effortlessly beautiful and charismatic, and their presence is known even without seeing them. She walks with ease until she sees Lexa sitting besides Raven.

“Hum.. Lexa, meet Octavia, my.. Octavia. Octavia, this is Lexa, my roommate.”

“The infamous Lexa,” Octavia says, extending her hand to Lexa who's now standing in front of her, “I've heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise.”

The atmosphere is somewhat tensed and Lexa knows why. This is Clarke's best friend. This is Clarke's closest friend.

“From Clarke or Raven?” Octavia says, a little bit challenging.

“I could return the question.”

Lexa knows she needs to stand her ground. Show no sign of weakness. So she towers over the petite brunette, and tries not to let the sound of her pounding heart heard. She's aware that Octavia knows things she doesn't, that she knows Clarke's story like she doesn't. That she's looking out for her, that she'll protect her, from Lexa if she has to. So she tries to show that she won't back down.

“I don't think I like you,” Octavia finally says, releasing Lexa's hands.

“Shame.”

They keep staring at each other until Raven feels the need to remind everyone of her presence.

“So, great. Can we all chill and talk like the normal people we are? This shit is getting creepy, honest.”

So they sit in silence on the couch, Raven in the middle.

“You did it, right? You slept with Clarke last night,” Octavia says after long minutes of uncomfortable silence.

“O.” Raven objects immediately, and Lexa is half thankful for it, but she figures that people, and most likely Clarke's best friends, will find out eventually so there's no point in lying. She doesn't even know why she'd lie anyway. They're adults and they can do as they please.

And please they did.

“It's okay Raven. Yes, I did sleep with Clarke last night. However, I don't know how it concerns you.” Lexa knows she said something she shouldn't have.

“I'm sorry? What did you just say?”

“What have I done?” Says Raven under her breath.

“Octavia..”

“Oh no, no. You don't get to tell me that it doesn't concern me. You've known Clarke what, two months? I've known her ten years. I know her better than she knows herself, I've seen her at her best and at her worst. And maybe you and her share a special something that I can't understand, but then again, so do we. So you don't get to look me in the eyes and tell me that this doesn't concerns me. I will fight whoever wants to hurt her.”

“I'm not looking to hurt her.”

Lexa tries to put as much truth in her words as she can. She's not defensive, she's not aggressive either. She just tries to be truthful.

“What are you looking for, then? What is it you want from her?”

“I just want to love her. I just want to know her, love her.”

“Yeah, well, that might be harder to do than you think.”

“I know that. I know her. I know what she shows me, but I also know what's beneath all that. I know what she doesn't let me see, what she doesn't say. I know her, and I don't. I'd still fight to the death for that girl.”

“Why?”

“Huh? Why what?”

“Why are you willing to fight for her? Why do you love her?”

Lexa ponders for a few short seconds, taken aback by such a demand, but when she comes to, the words flow effortlessly.

“She's always surprising me. With her strength. With her audacity. With the beauty she hides inside her soul. She always surprises me with how she is, the gentleness in her eyes and the authority in her hands. She surprises me with the things she doesn't see. The light within her, the fire deep inside. The way she guards herself. But how she gives, relentless, without restraint. The kindness behind her words, her gestures, the fierceness of her heart.”

It's easy how she finds all the words without looking for them. How it's right there, evident.

“She makes me proud to be alive at the same time as her, she makes me feel privileged to know her. But she's reverent and shy and oblivious of her worth, and that too, is entirely too surprising. Because she might be the most wondrous thing to ever exist, and I walk the streets everyday attacked by the stares of those who are envious of me. Envious that I get to love her when they don't. They don't even know her, but they do. They know.”

The silence that falls upon them is contemplating and Lexa feels like she has to go on.

“As to why I'd fight for her, it's easy. She's worth it. She's worth everything this world holds. Getting to talk to her is a blessing, getting to know her is a gift. And if I ever have a chance to be hers, I will make damn sure I seize it.”

No one talks for a while after that, assessing the words. Absorbing the reality of it.

“Finn died.”

Although Lexa expected it, she still feels her chest crack open at the words. She doesn't have the strength to talk anymore. The thought of Clarke going through that, knowing of such pain breaks her heart. She wishes she could take it all away. Wipe it away, take the burden on her shoulder and carry it for her. She knows it's not her cross to bear. She knows it's Clarke's grief, but she still wishes she could lift it off her shoulders.

“It happened on graduation day. I don't know why it all happened this way but it did. It was so fast. I was there with her, on the sidewalk, and we watched him on the other side of the street. He was so happy to see her in her gown, he didn't look before crossing.”

Lexa feels like puking and crying and screaming but she stays silent and still. So very still.

“I still remember the sound it made when the car hit him.” Octavia's voice is sombre, tainted with pain. Hers, Clarke's, Finn's.

The images inside Lexa's head are unbearable but suddenly, it all clicks. It all makes sense and she knows.

“That's why she can't cross the street,” she says, more to herself than anything.

“She can. Not alone, though. She'll wait for someone to be with her. Anyone really. Even strangers.”

She stays silent after that. She doesn't have the words to answer. The heavy facts are still hanging in the air.

“So, do you still want to be with her?”

Lexa doesn't let a second pass before she answers. “Forever.”

-

Lexa doesn't try to call Clarke all week, and it feels wrong. She distances herself and she knows she shouldn't.

She does anyway.

She wants nothing more than to be with her, to feel close. But she doesn't know how to process this situation they're in. It scares her. It scares her to death. So she doesn’t try to see Clarke again until Friday.

Clarke's not in drama class either.

-

She's still surprised when Clarke pulls over at the side of the road at their usual pick-up spot. She doesn't get in the car right away. Doesn't know how to greet Clarke.

She does eventually and almost like expected, no ones talks until they get to the clearing. Less expected is the way Clarke immediately climbs in the back seat, clearly waiting for Lexa to join her. So she does.

When Clarke wraps herself around Lexa almost right away, the tension vanishes a little and Lexa feels like she can finally breathe again since last Friday. She missed her.

She feels the turmoil inside the blonde, she feels the pain. The knowledge she has of what happened only makes her love Clarke more, but now she can't for the life of her know how to love her right.

“You're beautiful,” she tells her, whispering in her neck to print the words on her skin. Make them real and permanent. Make them known.

“I'm broken.”

“Look at the sky. It's broken too. It's dashed. Cracked open to let the light seep through into millions of stars. But it's still the most fascinating thing we ever looked at.”

Lexa pulls back a little to look into Clarke's eyes. She needs to watch into the blue, pure and plain. She smiles softly. Reassuring, tender.

“You're broken. It just means you let us see the light inside. It only makes you shine brighter.”

She lets the words sink in. How can she make this girl realize all the wonders she sees when she looks at her.

“It still makes you the most beautiful sky I've ever looked at.”

Clarke doesn't answer, just kisses Lexa like she's never kissed her before. So Lexa kisses her back just as forcefully, as beautifully, and she hopes Clarke will feel beautiful inside this kiss, inside her arms, inside her heart.

She traces on her skin the battles she knows to be inside her flesh and bones _._ She traces all the words she knows Clarke doesn't hear. She touches her body and tries to touch her soul. She tries to soothe the war inside their love.

There are galaxies in their hands, they have storms inside their hearts. Roads lead to nowhere, seasons don't change, they merge, they marry. They seep through each others.

In this night, Lexa tries her best to pretend everything's okay. She that she's free to love this girl this way.

Nothing's ever that easy, is it? Nothing's ever perfect.

When morning comes, and Clarke gets dressed without a word, Lexa feels panic rising up. She feels like she's losing.

“I love you,” it's said softly and cautious, but if you listen closely, you can hear the urgency beneath the gentleness.

Clarke exits the car almost immediately. Lexa follows.

“Don't act like you're surprised,” She continues.

“You can't say that to me now. You can't.”

Lexa knows she can't and yet.

“I can't not tell you anymore.”

“I can't do this.”

“Is it about Finn?”

“Don't talk about him.”

Clarke warns, voice trembling.

“I'm sorry about what happened to him, Clarke.”

Lexa can't stop the words. They feel wrong and straining.

“Stop it! You know nothing about him.”

“I don't, but I know things about you. I know it's not your fault.”

The brunette can't shake the feeling that this is a lost battle but she won't stop fighting. She can't stop fighting. She tries to take a few steps towards Clarke. Feel close once again. Where is all the gentleness from last night gone? Did it go where the moon went when the sun rose? Did it disappear with the bright and scorching light of the day?

“You're asking too much of me. I can't do this. Please.”

“Let me in. Let me love you.”

“I'm trying! I've tried. I've tried so hard, but I can't. I want to believe and have faith, but I can't. I'm sorry. I don't know how to be happy if he can never be. I don't think I even deserve to.”

The world spins around Lexa, she feels dizzy and unbalanced, like someone punched her.

“It's just bad timing.”

Clarke mutters, and Lexa thinks she's trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

So Lexa doesn't speak. She can't. And they stay like this for long, excruciating silent minutes. Lexa fights the tears in her eyes but she knows it's not over. She can't say anything though. She can't form words and when Clarke asks her to go home she just says “Go, I'll walk home,” and she feels the tiredness in Clarke's step when she doesn't fight her decision.

She's gone. Lexa's not sure if it's because she told her or Clarke just doesn't want this.

She's reminded everyday that she does, and it's harder than Lexa thought to watch her go. That's when things starts to click and for a minute there, for a fleeting moment, what might be a speck of dust in all they have lived, she thinks she lost her forever.

She doesn't understand why someone presses the slow down button when the blonde's not here.

Lexa thinks she's lost her mind she doesn't understand the void between her lungs. She searches for the beating sound of her heart but it's hollow and for a second she thinks it's gone altogether. She's painfully reminded it's not when she thinks about Clarke.

She misses her. It's a plain feeling of nothingness, mixed with deep yearning.

She tries to hate her but she could never.

She tries to forget her but she could never.

Lexa understand that maybe she should have fought harder for her. (And it's more cruel than watching her go, she thinks.)

She loves her and she watches her go.

-

She walks home and finds Raven waiting for her on the couch, worried. She doesn't talk, just sits with her for hours while silent tears fall on Lexa's cold clothes. She makes her hot chocolate, plays some Buffy, brings her blankets and pillows, but never talks. She knows Lexa can't. She knows that if Lexa tries to open her mouth, her throat will close, her eyes will fill.

She understands.

-

Lexa doesn't stop going to the clearing every Friday. She goes alone, she doesn't even wait at the pick-up spot. She walks the tiny roads that goes up the hills until she finds the lonely place. She sits on the railing at the edge of the small cliff, just where they used to park the car.

She can see the lights of the city, every night. She's mostly silent and weary. Two weeks in a row, Clarke doesn't come to the clearing.

So Lexa waits during the long hours of the night, cold and lonely. She waits, until the sun rises, tries to find the gold of Clarke's hair in the yellow light of dawn. She never does.

-

The third Friday, Raven forces her not to go. She tells her that if she's going to spend a sleepless night, she might as well spend it partying. She doesn't feel like it but doesn't have the strength to argue.

They get to a random frat house and Lexa despises Raven's choice but doesn't contest it. She gets inside, starts drinking, doesn't talk to anyone. Everything's just noise and everyone's pale in comparison to Clarke.

She doesn't want to forget, she doesn't want to move on. She won't.

When she enters a room full of dancing people, she wonders why every face she sees reminds her of Clarke's.

It's like she's struck by lightning when she realizes it's because Clarke is standing right here, in the middle of them, looking at her with an unreadable expression on her face. Octavia is standing next to her, and Lexa is sure she's smiling when she sees her. She's also sure she can see Raven nearby, and she curses them both. She should have known Raven had ulterior motives.

So Lexa turns around and goes to another room. She keeps walking until she's done a full tour of the house four times. She thinks and thinks and tries to breathe.

She asks herself if she's brave enough to go back into that room and starts fighting for that girl for real.

She grasps the fact that if it's not a question, it's a matter of will. So she wills herself, she knows that if she wants to do this, it's her choice.

She goes back into the room, finds the atmosphere completely changed. The music is deep and sensual, but slow and calm. People aren't dancing wildly like they'd been before. They're close together, trying to get closer, they're moving in slow motion, trying to feel. Lexa knows this song. It's an unknown remix she made Clarke listen to once, in one of the quiet moment of peace they had after love.

She has a hard time handling how relatable it is.

She has a hard time handling Clarke walking towards her when she spots her again.

She lets it happen at once. She lets Clarke's arms wrap around her, not one words spoken. She lets her own arms wrap around her waist, and she lets the embrace consume her. She pulls her closer, revels in the warmth she lost three weeks ago. Wonders how she ever thought she could stop fighting to make this girl love her.

So they start to turn, and move, calmly. Without a rush. The slow rhythm of the song lulls them into a false sense of comfort. But when words appear in the end, it's hard to pretend.

_Pick apart the pieces of your heart, let me peer inside._

_Let me in, where only your thoughts have been,_

_Let me occupy your mind, as you do mine._

The brunette's hands travel around Clarke's back. Clarke's hands find their way into Lexa's hair. She pulls, and claws. They're lost.

_You have lost too much blood, to fear, doubt and distrust,_

_You just threw away the key to your heart._

Lexa kisses Clarke's neck, it's not sweet. It's raw and intense and she tries to taste. She tries to get in.

_You don't get burned, cause nothing gets through,_

_It makes it easier, easier on you._

_But that much more difficult for me,_

_To make you see._

_Love ain't fair, so there you are, my love._

They pull back at the same time, foreheads touching, bumping, lips so close and yet so far. Lexa will not kiss Clarke tonight.

_Your heart’s a mess, you won't admit to it._

_It makes no sense, but I'm desperate to connect._

_And you, you can't live like this._

Clarke's hands finally make their way to Lexa's face. Traces her lips, her nose. Learns her features like she's trying to memorize them for the last time. It aches inside, each touch burns, soothing and relieving, but so brutal in its tenderness.

_Love ain't safe._

_You won't get hurt if you stay chaste._

There is a violence in the way they reach out for each other while pushing each other out.

There's a violence in the way they love and hate.

Lexa prays that the words will echo through Clarke's heart and won't bounce on her ribs. On this bony cage that protects the only part of Clarke's Lexa doesn't have access to.

So the brunette takes the other girl's hand, moves through the house to find an empty room.

Lexa won't kiss Clarke tonight.

She locks the door behind her, turns off the lights.

Lexa won't kiss Clarke tonight.

She lays her down on the bed and Clarke lets herself. She doesn't protest, doesn't fight. She accepts it like she needs it.

Lexa won't kiss Clarke tonight.

So they lay, facing each other, the white of their eyes shining through the darkness. They won't sleep again tonight. And Lexa can't keep the words in. Lexa can't keep silent.

“I don't pretend to know the challenges you're facing.”

It's her turn to trace Clarke's face with the tip of her fingers. She does so slowly, she memorizes too.

“The worlds you keep erasing and creating inside your mind.”

She watches blue eyes turn glassy, turn uncertain.

“Let this moment be the first chapter where you decide to stay,” Lexa chants it like a prayer, like a delicate plea.

“And I could be enough.”

She kisses her cheek.

“And we could be enough.”

She kisses her forehead.

“And that could be enough.”

Lexa won't kiss Clarke tonight.

But Clarke does. She does so slowly and Lexa's not sure if it's an answer or a way to shut her up. She doesn't dare ask.

They kiss, and kiss and do so until they don't and their eyes close.

When Lexa opens them again, Clarke is gone..

She remembers words whispered in the dead of night. _I don't know how to love you. I don't know how to not love you either._ They seem so unreal that she's sure it was a dream.

But she reminds herself that she never fell asleep.

-

Octavia finds Lexa on the couch later that week. She seems to be making her way out but stops mid-way.

“I don't know what happened between you two, but you need to make it right,” the petite brunette says eventually.

“I'm trying.”

It's a blunt lie and they both know.

“She lost Finn. Don't let her lose you too.”

“I'm fighting, I'm waiting for her.”

Oh, how she does.

“Did you tell her that?”

“She knows."

“Well, sometimes people need to be reminded.”

Lexa lets silence answer for her.

“She's not doing too good living without you. She won't admit it, but I can see.”

“Well, I'm right here.”

She doesn't understand. Still, she keeps making the same mistakes.

“No you're not. And you need to be.”

“She's avoiding me. She's not answering my calls. She's not talking to me. She doesn't want to talk to me.”

Octavia sighs, her shoulders slumps a little.

“I don't think you really believe that. I don't think she does either. So you get your shit together and do what you need to do.”

There's more silence from Lexa, stubbornly not looking at the girl standing in her living room.

“She needs you. She won't admit it. She'll try to push you away. But you need to fight harder than that.”

Stubborn silence still echoes in Lexa's mind.

“You know you'll regret it if you don't. You said it yourself. She's worth it.”

Without another word, Octavia walks to the door and leaves. Lexa hates the truth in her words. Lexa hates herself because Octavia's right, and she's wrong.

-

There really is nothing worse in this world than ignorance. And this perhaps might be the hardest part of Lexa's fight.

-

So Lexa finds Clarke. She gets her address and knocks on her door Saturday morning, after waiting all night at the clearing again.

When Clarke opens, it looks like she hasn't had much more sleep than Lexa. But there's something in her eyes that Lexa ignores.

“Can I come in?” She asks without waiting. It's reverent and serious.

Instead of answering, Clarke just opens the door wider and moves out of the way.

When they're in the middle of the room, awkwardly looking at each other, Lexa walks the short distance and doesn't hesitate before she takes Clarke's hands in her face.

“I've come to tell you I'm waiting. I'm fighting.”

“For what?”

“For us, for this. I love you. I love you and you love me, and I'll wait until my lungs give their dying breath.”

“I'm scared,” the voice cracks and it's hard to ignore it.

“What are you so scared of?”

“I don't know, that it'll fail, that it's doomed, that I won't be strong enough to make it, that I won't be able to take it all.”

Lexa knows it all. She's scared too. But she wants to tell her that the fear is good. The fear is what's going to make them fight harder to keep them from falling apart. The fear let them know all of this is real.

“Look, it's okay to be scared. But you have a choice here. You can be scared and run away. You can choose to go and not give this a chance. We'll go on with our lives, but we'll always wonder. There's always going to be a part of us regretting and wondering. Of what could have been, what if we had made it. What if we were strong enough for this.”

Lexa doesn't like this idea, and she knows deep down that she will never get on with her life. She will never stop loving Clarke like this.

“Or. You can be scared and be brave. You can choose to fight this, you can choose to be strong because you are, _so much stronger_ than you know. And we can give this a chance. We can show the world that we can make it, that we can beat the odds, that we're stronger than this. You can choose to let me in and let me fight for you.”

There's a long moment where Clarke seems to think about it. And Lexa allows the hope inside her heart. She allows herself to believe this will be it.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that.”

It feels like a knife to the heart again but Lexa is ready to take it. She kisses Clarke's forehead, mumbles “Okay”, and goes to leave.

“So you're just giving up?”

“I'm never going to stop waiting after you. I'm never going to give up on you. I can't. I have a feeling about you, about us, and it's never going away. I know it. I've fought my battles, I've dealt my hands. I'm not perfect. I am flawed. I make mistakes. I make bad decisions sometimes. It happens to all of us. But I vow to try my best, I'm willing to work on being better. I am only myself at the end of the day, and I hope that it will be enough for you. But that's all I can do. Wait, and hope in silence that maybe someday you're going to decide that we're worth the try.”

She walks a little bit more to the door.

“The choice is yours now,” Lexa says ultimately. Because it is. There's so much she can do, but the choice is Clarke's. “I'm waiting for you. Now you know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry too.”

The last sound that is heard is the one of the door closing. When it closes, it feels like more than a wall between them, and the click it makes when it locks sounds like the last note of a tired symphony.

-

Next Friday, when she goes back to the clearing, Lexa suspects Clarke was here because there are fresh tire prints in the dirt, and so she does something she haven't done in a while.

She writes. She writes a poem on a piece of paper and tapes it to the railing, where it can be easily seen. She decides it'll be her way to fight. If she'll do this, it'll be with what she's good at.

If one looks at the piece of paper, they can read,

_Here is our story,_

_It begins with a kiss_

_Sweet interlude,_

_Unexpected prelude,_

_To the torrent of devotion_

_That lies beneath my ribs._

The next day, when Lexa returns, the piece of paper is gone. In its place is taped a yellow flower that Lexa doesn't know the name of.

-

She returns every day, and she leaves a piece of paper each time. She makes a collection of all the flowers she brings home each day.

On Saturday, the paper says,

_Here is our story,_

_It's here and it's not._

_It dances on the music_

_In our hearts_

_Painting Paradise_

_Over the city._

On Sunday, the ink writes,

_Here is our story,_

_Ups and downs,_

_Careful words in the moonlight._

_Whispered against frail muscle_

_Echoing the beat_

_Of our love._

On Monday, the letters intertwines,

_Here is our story,_

_Dancing bodies_

_Bathed in yearning._

_The touching of souls_

_Underneath flesh and bones._

_I think you are_

_The beginning and end of me._

On Tuesday, Clarke leaves dozens of flowers,

_Here is our story,_

_Collapsing on itself_

_And the pull we felt._

_The lightning strike_

_At the end of our fingers_

_Marking the skin_

_Breaking the sin_

_Of the nights we spent_

_In those lonely arms again._

Wednesday rolls around, and still, the words await,

_Here is our story._

_Accept all my flaws,_

_Deny me the sound_

_Your silence makes_

_In my ears._

_In the light of every dawn,_

_I'll say to you, a gentle breath_

_In the valley of your neck,_

_How you still are_

_The most beautiful sky_

_I want to see._

Time passes, days end, and begin. Thursday, Lexa knows she has to keep fighting,

_Here is our story._

_Not tender or sweet._

_Here is the violent_

_Truth we cannot tell:_

_There is no gentle road_

_To happiness._

_Here is the murderous reality_

_That I will fight_

_To take you there_

_With me._

Finally, on Friday, Lexa leaves the last piece of paper,

_Here is our story,_

_But had it not been this way_

_It would still be._

_Because yours_

_Is the only heart I'll look for_

_And the only soul, I'll wait for._

She waits, hidden, until Clarke parks in the smooth ground and takes the piece of paper, the brutal light of dawn shining a light on all the words she ever wrote.

-

Saturday, Lexa spends her day thinking. She roams the streets of the city, tired and spent, but confident. Hopeful.

She's not even surprised when she sees Clarke. She learns that fate works in mysterious ways.

Clarke doesn't see her, she's waiting at a crosswalk, alone. The light turns red and cars stop. But Clarke doesn't move, and the street is empty. No one is there but her.

So Lexa walks slowly until she's besides the blonde. She takes her hand solemnly, and begins to walk. Squeezes Clarke's fingers in her own to tell her it's okay. They'll be okay.

They walk in silence past the unmoving cars, until the safety of the sidewalk greets them again.

Lexa doesn't wait for Clarke to talk. She turns her around and kisses her, in the middle of the streets, while the sound of the engines behind them roars again. She kisses her like she won't ever kiss her again. She kisses her so deep and strong, she doesn't think she can break this one off. She doesn't want to. Ever.

Clarke is gripping her arms and the blood in her veins moves so fast, she knows her heart is pounding against her ribcage.

Minutes pass and they keep kissing, and when Lexa finally has the courage to break it off, she doesn't wait. She doesn't give Clarke a chance to doubt this again. She turns around and walks away, knowing that there's a clearing waiting for them.

-

Without failing, Clarke arrives at the clearing when the last of the sun disappears behind the horizon.

The dark light casts millions of stories on her face and Lexa is curious for them all. She'll wait until they unveil one by one. She spends a long time looking at all the creases around her eyes, at the corner of her tired smile. She finds answers in all the small clefts time has left behind. She finds confirmations and affirmations and she's sure. It's all here, it's all evident.

She was right. She made the right choice. Fighting for her. She reaches her hand towards Clarke, in a reassuring gesture, an inviting gesture. It means so many things. _You'll never be alone again. Let's do this together. I'll fight your battles with you._ And she waits for Clarke to take her hand. To tell her she'll stay.

“Why are you fighting so hard for this?”

“I believe our love is stronger than this. I know we can get through this, through anything. And maybe it'll hurt, maybe it'll be painful, but we're better than this. I know there's a light at the end of this tunnel for you and I. I know there's a happy ending in there somewhere. We just have to have the courage to find it.”

“What if I don't have the courage?”

“I have enough courage for the both of us. Just take my hand, I'll get us through this. Together.”

“What if you let go ?”

“I will never let you go.”

“But you did.”

“You needed it, love. I knew it and you did too. That's why you didn't stay when I fought for you. It was necessary, we needed to be apart so we could come together better.”

“I'm still scared.”

“I know, you just have to trust me.”

Lexa's hand is still reaching out, smile in place, heart beating. It's astounding how calm she is despite the turning point in life this could be. But she isn't scared, she isn't unsure. She's calm and serene and she knows.

So she keeps smiling. She keeps reaching.

Lexa will never forget the sound of their hearts colliding when Clarke finally lifts her hand, and their fingers touch once and for all.  
  
-

_Let his happy ending be ours. Let me love you. I promised you I would always find you. I promise you I would never let you go, no matter how far you go, how hard you push me away. I will fight until my lungs give out. I will fight, my love._


End file.
